


Subjugation is Liberation

by hellscabanaboy



Category: Kill la Kill
Genre: Bloodplay, Dom/sub, F/M, PWP without Porn, Punishment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-08
Updated: 2013-12-08
Packaged: 2018-01-03 23:13:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1074174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hellscabanaboy/pseuds/hellscabanaboy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Since the first day Gamagoori knew her, he has done Lady Satsuki wrong. And since he has known her, in perfect understanding, Lady Satsuki has let him make amends for it with pain.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Subjugation is Liberation

Since the first day Gamagoori knew her, he has done Lady Satsuki wrong. That he had failed to recognize her authority at first sight, that he had gone so far as to try to oppose her - he can never pay enough to outweigh such crime. And since he has known her, in perfect understanding, Lady Satsuki has let him make amends for it with pain.

"I require more than your mere endurance, Gamagoori," she says, and she doesn't look to him but he can see the rigor in the set of her shoulders. He straightens in response, makes sure his salute is without flaw. "You gave me that much before you belonged to me at all."

It's true; the pain that he offers her now is the same with which he had once been so insolent as to challenge her. A self-serving gift, when it's that pain from which he draws his own strength. Of course, that could never be enough. Not from him.

Not for her.

Lady Satsuki's heels click on the floor as she finally goes to him, but Gamagoori keeps his eyes forward, even as she lays one fine hand across his chest. Briskly she strips off his uniform, strips away his status and his power and everything she's given him and leaves it to lie on the floor as she turns to the husk of a man he remains. When she binds him, she winds the rope tight around the base of his neck, so that even he can't get the leverage to break it without strangling himself, and he gives himself over gratefully to the restriction. He can always trust Lady Satsuki to give him what he deserves.

She turns, and before Gamagoori can see her move her sword is at his throat, the steel chilling his skin. It's only the flat of the blade that digs into him, but Gamagoori knows better than to think it will end there.

"You think to absolve yourself of your failings by your own hand," she says, so soft he strains to hear it above the sound of his own heartbeat. "Presumptuous, Gamagoori. Don't forget that it's my judgment you look to now."

The blade presses into his neck, forcing his chin up. He can't see her face. "If you want absolution, then ask for it."

"Please," says Gamagoori, and his voice is strong and steady with the righteousness of his plea. "Punish me, Lady Satsuki, please! Show me the fate of those who defy you!"

"You know what you have to do," says Lady Satsuki. 

And Gamagoori goes to his knees before her, head bent in a bow before her blade has so much as broken his skin. Offers freely what he could never surrender by force, and he's rewarded with force in return. Lady Satsuki steps back, lifts the blade from his throat, and in a flash brings it down across his chest in one clean line of pain. 

It's not enough. "Please," he repeats, and she draws another short shallow cut next to the first, flicks away the droplet of blood sullying her blade. It's only a small pain, but it's quick and sharp, utterly unlike the scourging that Gamagoori is accustomed to delivering himself. He can't keep back a flinch at the sheer suddenness of it, and Lady Satsuki steps back once more, and for a brief desolate moment she withdraws the touch of her blade to fix him with a gaze just as deadly.

"Sit up straight, Gamagoori," she says. "Prove to me that you deserve this."

And then the blade is against his skin once more and Gamagoori gives himself to it, gives himself to her and to the terrible slow crescendo of her justice. She peppers his skin with tiny cuts, bright spots of pain nowhere near what he needs. But he waits. Grits his teeth and hangs his head and takes the pain into himself while he still can. It won't take long. He knows Lady Satsuki will not be merciful.

Finally the blade sinks into him, cuts deep into the flesh of his chest. Gamagoori writhes as he feels it part the muscle, jerks away reflexively in the same moment as he leans in for more, and the rope tightens around his neck to remind him of the futility of his struggle. He sucks in what air he can, forces his lips to move. "Please," he says once more, and then again, when she strikes between his ribs. "Please."

His pain is righteous. His pain belongs to Lady Satsuki, and she is righteous. So with every cut, every impulse to flinch or turn away, he keeps the plea on his lips. "Punish me," he says, "give me your justice. Give me the retribution I deserve! The retribution owed to all the fools who dare to stand against you!" His voice rises with each new wound, stronger and more desperate until he's bellowing with all his power. "Lady Satsuki, please! Let your judgment rain down!"

Lady Satsuki pauses, runs a hand down his chest, and her nails catch in his wounds, cutting off his pleading in a strangled sob. It jars him as deep as the cuts, to see her pure white skin defiled with his blood. One more crime for which he must atone. But she takes no notice, need take no notice from so far above the minutiae of Gamagoori's penance, and the tears run heedless over his face as she twists her fingers and reduces his world to nothing but cold rending pain.

It's not the climax of his own self-flagellation. Lady Satsuki doesn't give him that much. In place of the white-hot power there's only absolute subjection, only her will that remains to harden his resolve. It's too perfect to be endured.

At last she lets it end, steps back to survey what she's made of him, and Gamagoori bows his head and sobs without shame.

"Please, Lady Satsuki," he says one last time. All that's left of his voice is a hoarse whisper, but he needs to speak once more, needs her to hear his plea. "Please forgive me."

At once, the blade is at his throat again, and this time it digs into his skin, opens one final tiny wound all the more threatening for its precision. If she wished his execution, she could carry it out with barely a flick of her wrist. "Do you think you deserve it?"

"Never."

She's staring down at him where he kneels, barely upright enough to keep from leaning into her blade, and he dares to lift his eyes but all he sees is radiance.

"Then for now I will allow you reprieve." She lifts the blade from his throat, her judgment set, and when Gamagoori looks again there's a kind of approval in her cool regard. It's infinitely more precious than the forgiveness he sought. "You may ask again when you're prepared to earn it."

Lady Satsuki sheathes her sword, sets it aside, but she makes no move to untie him. Instead she reaches out to him with one careful hand, smoothes his hair back into place where it's fallen shamefully out of order. Even in this, her nails rake hard across his scalp. It's all that Gamagoori could have hoped for.

When she lifts her other hand to brush the last of the tears from his eyes, a smear of his own blood remains on his cheek.


End file.
